The Pool.

Out of that noise and hurry of large life

The river flings me in an idle pool:

The waters still go on with stir and strife

And sunlit eddies, and the beautiful

Tall trees lean down upon the mighty flow,

Reflected in that movement. Beauty there

Waxes more beautiful, the moments grow

Thicker and keener in that lovely air

Above the river. Here small sticks and straws

Come now to harbour, gather, lie and rot,

Out of cross-currents and the water's flaws

In this unmoving death, where joy is not,

Where war's a shade again, ambition rotten

And bitter hopes and fears alike forgotten.